


Laundry Day

by ClareGuilty



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Javier is my fashion boyfriend and I love him, Jelly Beans, Smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 23:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClareGuilty/pseuds/ClareGuilty
Summary: It's Laundry Day and Reader has been tasked with washing clothes for the entire gang. Luckily, one gentleman cowboy is there to lend a hand -- too bad he's also a dirty thief.





	Laundry Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I very much love Javier Escuella and I wanted to write fic for him and also complain about how much I hate doing laundry

Your arms were already beginning to ache, and you had only cleaned the blood out of one shirt. Setting John’s aside, you rolled your shoulders and grabbed the next article from the pile of laundry. Arthur’s shirt. Just as bloody as John’s.

Sighing, you set to work. The water was already losing its sudsiness and steadily browning with dirt and blood and god knows what else. You would probably have to change it soon. Another sigh escaped you, and you glanced around to make sure Grimshaw wasn’t nearby to witness your bad attitude.

Camp was quiet for the moment, but you knew several of the men were due back today after some expedition or another. They would surely bring a rowdiness with them that would make work that much harder for you.

Heavy footsteps sounded on the soft earth, and you glanced up to see Pearson headed over.

“Can’t he see we’re busy enough?” Tilly said what everyone was thinking. Y’all were already swamped with chores, the last thing you needed was to get dragged away on an errand for Pearson.

“Whatever he needs, I’ll do it,” Mary-Beth volunteered. You shot her a grateful look.

“How are you doing ladies?” Pearson asked.

“Just fine, Mister Pearson,” Tilly answered. “Awfully busy today.”

“I noticed that,” the camp chef nodded, reaching into one of his pockets. “Which is why I brought these.” Pearson plucked a small pouch from his pocket and handed it to Mary-Beth -- the only one of you with with a free hand. She peered into the tiny bag and giggled.

“Sweets! Thank you Mister Pearson!” She popped one of the jelly beans into her mouth.

“Be sure to share those,” he nodded and made his way back to his wagon, looking very pleased with himself.

“Open,” Mary-Beth ordered, and Tilly parted her lips to accept the offered jelly bean.

“Save some of those for me,” you raised an eyebrow. Arthur’s shirt was clean at last, and you grabbed whatever was next without even looking. It would be sundown before you finished all of this.

The sun climbed higher in the sky and the three of you moved under the shade of the canopy. Mary-Beth was curled against Tilly’s side, softly reading aloud from one of her novels. Tilly was quiet and focused as she mended and sewed, only pausing every so often to brush Mary-Beth’s hair back from her face or help you hang the washing. Your fingers were aching and pruned with no sign of reprieve soon. You would choke the next man that came home bloodstained.

Tilly glanced up again at the sound of spurs. “We have more company.”

You followed her eyes to where Javier was approaching, guitar in hand.

“He’s fine. As long as he doesn’t try and steal my candy.” Mary-Beth and Tilly had saved you a good portion of the jelly beans, and you would guard them with your life. 

Javier tipped his hat as he stepped into the shade of the canopy. “Miss Jackson, Miss Gaskill,” he greeted 

“Mister Escuella,” Tilly grinned.

Javier turned to you, “_Hermosa señorita_.” You scoffed. You were up to your elbows in muddy water; there was nothing beautiful about you. “Would you mind if I sat over here and played for a while? If it wouldn’t disturb your reading that is.”

Mary-Beth shook her head and patted the ground next to her. “My voice was getting tired anyways. Come join us in the shade.”

Javier settled in and tuned his guitar before he began playing. It was soothing, and you found the work went by easier when you focused on the music.

Eventually, the water became too dirty for you to wash with, and you groaned as you pulled yourself to your feet. 

Your distaste must have been evident in your face because Javier stopped playing, looking at you quizzically.

“I’ve got to change the water,” you gestured to the basin.

“Need any help?” Javier was already climbing to his feet.

“Only if you’re offering,” you shrugged.

Javier’s strength was a blessing as he helped you drag the basin away and dump the old water. You wiped your brow, grabbing a pitcher. Now for the tedious part: trekking back and forth from the stream with pitchers of water to fill the basin back up. Surprisingly, Javier fell into step beside you, empty pitcher tucked under his arm.

“I’m very grateful for your help,” you said as he helped you pick your way down the hill to the stream.

“You’re the one washing all of our clothes,” Javier shrugged. “It’s only fair that you aren’t working by yourself.”

“Yeah, but you wash all your own clothes,” you cocked your head. “You already have to do all this anyways.”

“That only means I know how difficult it is.”

You couldn’t argue with that logic. The two of you ducked your pitchers in the stream and began the much slower trek back up to camp, now laden with chilled water.

“Why do you wash your own clothes anyways?” you asked.

Javier grinned at you. “No offense, _chica_, but my clothes are nice. I like to make sure they’re taken care of.”

You nodded in agreement. Javier usually dressed nicer than most of the men in camp. He took better care of himself in general.

With Javier’s help, you only needed to take one more trip down to the stream before it was back to washing. The other men had returned to camp, and you could hear their shouting and teasing drawing closer. You tried to focus on the sound of Javier’s voice as you slaved away. The last thing you needed was to get in trouble with Grimshaw for snapping at one of the men.

“Aye, Escuella, catch!” Sean’s voice rang out from afar and you glanced up just in time to see him throw something your way.

Sean’s throw, while powerful, was far from accurate, and the item sailed through the air before splashing directly into the basin and spraying you with water.

You gasped and wiped suds from your eyes. Tilly and Mary-Beth looked horrified, and Javier had already snatched whatever it was out of the water. Sean ran over, red-faced and stammering.

“I’m so sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to get you all wet.” he apologised. You waved him off.

“I was already half soaked anyways, Maguire. Don’t worry about it.” Thankfully, he wandered off, not wanting to hang around too close to where real work was happening.

You dried your face with Javier’s offered handkerchief before handing it back. His skin was flushed a deep red and he refused to meet your eyes.

“Something the matter, Mister Escuella?” you asked.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he shook his head, looking firmly at the ground.

Tilly piped up from behind him, “You aren’t wearing any underclothes, and we’re all appreciating the view.” She and Mary-Beth fell into a fit of giggles.

You glanced down. It was true, you weren’t wearing a chemise, and the thin material of your blouse clung tightly to your chest, rendered practically transparent by the water. You might as well have not been wearing a shirt at all.

“Oh,” you said, unsurprised. “Didn’t mean to scandalize you, Javier. I guess I can go grab a shawl or something. All my other shirts are in this pile though,” you gestured to the heap of laundry.

“Are your underclothes in there as well?” Mary-Beth raised an eyebrow.

“It’s laundry day,” you shrugged. “I didn’t think I would need a spare shirt for nothing.”

Javier had willed himself back into composure, and he shook his head as you moved to stand. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll go see if they need any help over that way. I’ll come back once you’re… drier.”

He made his way to where Dutch and Arthur were talking, and the three of you instantly fell into a fit of giggles.

“At least he was a gentleman about it,” Tilly pointed out. You nodded in agreement.

Work continued for a little while longer before Abigail came to take your place.

“Are you sure?” you asked. You certainly didn’t mind letting her take over, but you knew she had a lot of other things to attend to. “Do you want me to watch Jack for a little while?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Abigail was already rolling up her sleeves. “John’s gonna keep an eye on him for the rest of the day. Go rest for a bit until Grimshaw finds you again.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, abandoning the pants you were scrubbing and drying your tired arms. “Give me those candies,” you held your hand out to Tilly.

She turned to grab them, then frowned. “They were right here earlier.” She and Mary-Beth searched frantically for a few moments. “We swear we didn’t eat them.”

You frowned and glared across camp. Only one other person had been by, and he was a thief if you had ever known one. “This is what I get for living with a bunch of no-good, low-life, two-timing outlaws.” You set off, fire in your eyes and purpose in your step.

“Where’s Escuella?” you demanded as you made your way to where Arthur was tending his horse.

“He’s in his tent,” Arthur motioned with his horse brush. “I don’t know what he did to deserve your fury, but please make sure you leave him alive whenever you’re through with him.”

You said nothing, storming to Javier’s tent and pushing past the flap with a thousand curses at the tip of your tongue. He was sitting on a stool, sharpening a knife, and you pressed your lips shut to keep from saying something that would put you on the wrong end of that blade.

Javier looked surprised to see you. “You’re dry,” were the only words out of his mouth as you blocked his only means for escape.

“What an astute observation Javier,” you sneered. “Now if you could do me the favor of telling me where my candies went, I may consider keeping distance between my foot and your delicates.”

Javier’s eyes widened, and he raised his hands as he tried to placate you. “I didn’t know they were yours,” he said. “I just figured Tilly had left them around and she wouldn’t miss them. I have them right here, I swear I didn’t take any.” He offered you the bag and you snatched it from his fingers, furiously eating a jelly bean as you stared him down.

“Mister Escuella,” you said calmly, “You have been watching me work all morning, since dawn, to wash not only my clothes, but also every stinking, filthy rag that walks through this camp. Mister Pearson was kind enough to give me these candies as a gift, and I have been looking forward to them ever since. Give me one reason I should not slap the shit out of you for taking them.”

Javier said nothing.

“Well?” you took a step forward.

“I don’t have one.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You took another step forward.

“I don’t have a reason. You have every right to hit me.” Javier watched you closely, trying to anticipate your blow.

You raised your arm high and he flinched, eyes squeezing shut. However, instead of slapping him, you pinched his cheek. He opened one eye.

“I’m not going to hit you,” you said. He let out a sigh of relief and sat back on his bedroll. You plopped down next to him and fished around in the bag.

“Want one?” you offered. Javier eyed the jelly beans with distrust. “Take one,” you insisted.

He obliged, closing his eyes as he bit into the sweet confection. You grinned and pressed another into his hand, glad to share when it was on your own terms.

“Thanks again for helping me earlier,” you bumped his shoulder with yours. “I hate laundry day.”

Javier shrugged. “It certainly has its perks,” he grinned.

You eyes widened as you realized what he was saying. “Mister Escuella?” you feigned disapproval, “You dare joke about my modesty?”

He laughed loudly and shook his head. “I mean no offense, _señorita_.”

“What was that anyways? The thing Sean threw?”

“Oh,” Javier grabbed something from atop a nearby crate. You recognized the shape of a medicine bottle. “Nothing important.”

“Are you well?” you asked, searching Javier’s face for any sign of illness.

“It’s nothing like that, I promise.” He waved away your concern. “This will help me to fall asleep at night.”

“Oh.” You watched him put the bottle back. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Javier shook his head. “It’s just the way things are.”

“But it’s not the way they should be,” you frowned.

He gave a wry chuckle. “We are bad people, _chica_, we do not get to say how things should be.”

You grabbed his hand, holding it tightly. “You’re wrong.” Javier looked into your eyes, unable to tell what point you were making. “Just because we’re bad people doesn’t mean we don’t get to change things.”

His expression softened. The air seemed to grow still. Outside, you heard the shrill sounds of Jack squealing as he played with John.

Javier’s lips brushed over yours, the chastest of kisses. You leaned in, pressing your forehead to his and grinning before kissing him back with more intensity.

The two of you slipped into each other’s space until there was nothing left. Javier pushed you onto your back and breathed sweet words against your skin. You held him close and ran your fingers through his hair.

“You drive me insane,” Javier whispered. “When you came in here, I thought you were going to shoot me.”

“I’m sorry.” You kissed the corner of his mouth. “I was just upset.”

“No no, don’t apologize. I thought it was hot.” Javier grinned at you.

You raised your eyebrows. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time someone steals my things.”

Javier chuckled and slipped his hands under your blouse, fingers trailing up over your stomach. You shuddered at the sensation.

There was a noise just outside the tent. You and Javier froze.

“Javier,” Miss Grimshaw called, “Pearson said he needs someone to go out fishing.”

You blanched at the sound of her voice. The last thing you needed was for Grimshaw to find out you had abandoned your laundry duties.

“I’ll head out in a little bit,” Javier called back. The she-devil seemed satisfied that, and you waited until she was far enough away before letting out a frustrated groan.

“I hate her,” you hissed.

Javier kissed your forehead. “Would you like to go fishing with me? No laundry involved whatsoever.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are much loved
> 
> Come see more RDR2 on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Clare_Guilty)
> 
> Check out my upcoming Kinktober fics on [Tumblr](https://clareguilty.tumblr.com/)


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